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13 May 2025 (Tuesday) - Where The Hobos Go

I had another restless night. I got up at five o'clock and had a little look at the Internet as I scoffed toast. There was the most ridiculous argument ever kicking off on one of the Doctor Who related Facebook groups. Someone was wondering how many full-sized Dalek models there are in the UK. Estimates ranged from a couple of dozen up to a couple of thousands. Some idiot was getting rather aggressive that no one knew, and felt there should be some official list of full-sized Dalek models on which all of them must be registered, with sanctions for those not complying. And he was serious.
 
I also saw that the geocache I mentioned on Sunday was still unfound. It wasn't *that* much of a diversion from my journey to work... As the crow flies it was seventeen miles from home.
As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio were interviewing some irate farmers who had the arse. Apparently there used to be some government scheme in which farmers could apply to be paid for using their land for not farming. Letting it grow wild for butterflies, or trees... it seemed like a nice little earner. It didn't take long for all the money the government had earmarked to go, and those who were too slow to put in their application weren't happy that they'd missed a seat on the gravy train.
And there was a lot of talk about how the Prime Minister's house had burned down.
And there was a lot of talk about how Donald Trump has been given a jumbo jet by the Qatar government. 
It was unclear as to whether it was to him personally or in his capacity as President, but it was alleged that when he was President last time he was given a lot of pressies in his official capacity which have long since disappeared. Have they? Who knows.
 
According to my geo-app the geocache I was hunting this morning was seventeen miles from home as the crow flies. But as the car drives it was a shade over thirty miles. The cache was called "Where the Hobos Go" and the instructions said it was under a bridge, so I knew what I was doing. It really was where the hobos go - I scrambled down a bank and hopped over a stream. And as I searched I found a smashed vodka bottle, and I thought I got whiffs of human shit a couple of times.
The instructions said the cache was attached to a wire... I searched every wire time and time again except the right one. I won't give spoilers, but I'll say it was rather well hidden and took me half an hour to locate. But I did find it. And I was first too. Happy dance.
 
From there I went to Sainsburys where (as I shopped) someone greeted me with a cheerful "Hello Dave". A portly red-haired chap with a beard. I had no idea who they were, but they clearly knew me.
 
And the excitement of the day was all over and done with by half past seven. The rest of the day was rather dull.

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